Take All of Your Troubles, Now Lay Them Down
by songsingsitself
Summary: Caroline's dream is to someday open a restaurant and to become a third grade teacher. Darrel's dream is...well, Darrel's dream has been forgotten, as he takes on the new role of being head of his household. Can Caroline use her positive affirmation and wonderful taco making skills to help Darrel realize the world will not end if he takes a break sometimes?
1. Chapter 1

**No ownership of The Outsiders here. I just own my OC and her family. I haven't written in a long time, and I just want to see where this thing goes. Please let me know if you like it, if you don't, if it's boring, etc.**

The day I lied about the window, Louise married a foreigner.

I mean, it wasn't TECHNICALLY Bill's fault that the ball crashed through the attic, blowing the pane to dusty, glittering fragments. I was actually pretty proud of him; it had taken him AGES to learn how to aim. There we were, in our Sunday best, waiting for Dad to pick us up and take us over to the church. I threw the ball, something strange came inside of Bill, and with a huge CRRRRRRAAACCCKKK the bat hit the ball, the ball crashed through the air, and the air helped the ball smash into the window. We watched in disbelief, following its path across the deep blue sky. I had told Dad that a confused bird had crashed through the window. When Dad found the baseball, I decided that from that day forward, I would never tell another lie.

Anyway, that was just a fun fact. That was also six months ago. I'm so glad that Louise married Jorge, because he helped me begin one of the dreams I've had since childhood: opening my very own restaurant.

Granted, it's not REALLY a restaurant. I'm not sure what to call it, exactly. It's like a lemonade stand that mainly sells tacos. Jorge is from Nicaragua, and ladies set up tables and things on the street all the time to sell food. His mom actually has one. He taught me how to make the very best tacos, and now, I can make my summer living out of it, helping pay to accomplish one of my other big childhood dreams, which was to be a third grade teacher. Not a second grade teacher, not a fourth grade teacher; third grade. There's just something very special about that age.

Every morning from Monday to Friday, I get up and I begin my taco making. I usually make around fifty. By 11:45, it's time to go out to my semi-permanent location, the Albert T. Hoffman City Park. Usually I can find someone to help me carry my table and chair over there, along with my basket of tacos and my pitchers of lemonade, and I'm set up there. It's a convenient location not only for me, but for the babysitters, policemen, and construction workers to come and buy their lunch. Sometimes on holidays, parade days, or Saturday afternoons, I would set up my taco stand also.

Mother never thought that anything would come out of this, but I would certainly say a few very large things did.

It all started on Tuesday, June 12, 1966. The summer of that year's entrance was quite mild, so more and more people were going out for walks. I started making 80 tacos every morning of different kinds, even different sizes. Around their normal time of 12:15, a gang of construction workers came ambling down from whatever city project they were working on. I tried to move around to accommodate them, as they were my best customers.

Mother didn't like the way the construction workers talked, smoked, and spat. They never bothered me, though; they would buy their tacos and lemonade and go to another part of the park. They didn't go out of their way to be kind, but at least they were never rude to me.

That particular day, I saw a new guy. Whether it was his first day with this crew or he usually just packed his own lunch, I wasn't sure. He waited in line patiently, staring straight ahead past me. I smiled. It was always nice to see a new face.

I picked up a little sack. "Hi there, one or two tacos?"

In a very quiet voice, he responded with two. "Sour cream, chiles?" I asked, pointing to each of them in turn.

His brow furrowed and his mouth turned, confused. "Um...does it taste good?"

Sometimes I forgot that tacos were not a normally served item in Tulsa, like hamburgers, and a lot of people didn't know the absolute best way to eat them. "Yeah, I love it! Only if you don't like spicy food, I wouldn't have the chiles," I explained.

"Both sound fine." I spooned the other ingredients in, took his money, and passed him his bag and his lemonade. He nodded and gave me a small smile. "Thank you." He walked away, and looked over at the other guys. They were all smoking, rough housing, and yelling. He chose to sit on a bench off to the side.

The guy had taken my last tacos. I put my money bag in my purse and headed for home. It was still a little early yet for Bill to come and help me, but I thought I could manage the couple trips it would take me to transport my "restaurantito" (as Jorge called it, my little restaurant) home.

I tried to pick up my folding table, and then proceeded to drop it on my own foot. Hissing with pain, I tried picking it up again. And again.

"Hey!" I glanced over, and taco boy was heading toward me, cramming a taco in his mouth, sour cream running down his lip. "Can I-" He tried to talk with his mouth full- "help you?" He smiled crookedly as his food was shoved into one of his cheeks.

My heart smiled. "Hey, you don't have to. Isn't this your lunch break?" He shrugged a little bit, and gently took the table from me. I grinned up at him, grabbed my basket and my lawn chair, and led the way. "Thank you so much. I don't live too far, I promise."

In books and movies, when things like this usually happen, a beautiful friendship or relationship forms, the two start hitting it off immediately, and there is undeniable chemistry. Well, you know what? Books and movies LIE. Taco girl had a very awkward walk with construction man, because we both didn't know what to say or do. Life is awkward sometimes. Nothing was said til we were almost to my house.

I sighed. "I'm Caroline. What's your name?"

"Darrel," he responded, shifting his gaze over to me. His pale eyes were a shocking contrast with his dark air and sun tanned skin. "I'd shake your hand, but...you know." He grinned at me, showing off beautiful teeth. "And I'll have you know, that was a great taco. My first, actually."

We reached my porch, and I sat my lawn chair down, helping him set up the table. "Well, you'll just have to come back, then! There shouldn't be more manual labor next time, it looks like y'all do that a lot already. Are you guys working on that big house over on Pritchard Avenue?" We talked for a minute, and he looked at his old, battered watch and jumped.

"I'm real sorry, I need to go. My first day on the job, ya know. Nice to meet you, Caroline!" Darrel walked backwards a few steps, waving and smiling, and started running back toward the park.

The sidewalk still smells a little bit like Jorge's mom's famous combination of chiles since the day of the accident, a week or so after my first meeting with Darrel.

I had heard the crazy driver zooming behind me from a mile away. I rolled my eyes; there were little kids playing all around here. I turned around to shake my fist at them, when I noticed not one but TWO crappy cars. _Were they racing?_ The head car zipped around the unexpected corner (going 50 in a 25, as you do, so he had to slam on the brakes) and the one behind it wasn't so lucky. They rammed into the back bumper of the front car, and the sound of the crash made my heart skip a beat and my tacos and chiles to jump out of my hands. As I ran, I saw a nasty, greasy looking guy jump out of his car, take a few steps forward and backward like he wasn't sure what to do, and then yell, "YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT, CURTIS!" With the rest of his car unscathed, he drove off in a huff.

The crappy little truck was half on the road, half on the sidewalk from the impact. I had no idea what to do, what if he was hurt, what if he was DEAD..."Oh, goodness gracious...hey. HEY. Are you okay? Please don't be dead…" I jumped in the car and shook the kid as hard as I could. Praise to our God and King, the boy opened his eyes slowly.

"Oh dear. Are you all right? Did you hit your head on the steering wheel? Gosh…" His arm was also bleeding. What concerned me most was that he wasn't talking. I stared at him, hoping that it would make him uncomfortable and he would start talking. _I don't know how to save people! What do I do?!_ My mind was racing.

He was a beautiful creature, long and lanky with hair so light that I thought only little baby boys had that color. My heart ached for his poor mother, once she found out about this.

The truck was totaled, bless his heart; it was already in pretty bad shape, so it was nice that now they had the excuse to get another one. I gently dragged him out of the truck. I didn't know what to do about the truck; my dad wasn't home, and other cars could still go around it. But I did know that one way or another, I had to get him to the hospital.

He seemed fairly stable, and it was good that the hospital wasn't too far out of the way, because I didn't want him falling off my bike. He now seemed a little more awake. "I'm gonna take you to the hospital. Can I call anyone for you?" I sat him down on my porch. He put his head in his hands, and I put my hand on his back. He moaned.

"My big brother's gonna kill me…"

I patted his back gently. "There, there, I'm sure he'll be more grateful that you're alive. Is there a number I can call your parents at? Or your big brother?" The boy silently shook his head. "Are you sure? Where do they work?"

"My big brother is working on that construction project on Pritchard Avenue downtown," he told me quietly, slurring his words a bit, his head lolling onto my shoulder. I had to get this kid to the hospital.

"Well that's great!" I said brightly, running to get my bike. "That's right on the way to the hospital!" He moaned again, and I wasn't sure if it was more about the pain or if he was still worried about the dang car. He was ALIVE-surely his family would be grateful for that.

I had him jump on my handlebars. He wasn't very stable anymore and I kind of had to support him with my chest, but it happens. I pedaled my hardest, not sure if I should take him to the hospital or take him to the construction site. I figured that his brother probably had a car, so he could take him to the hospital. That was more reliable than my bike.

After about five minutes, we neared the entrance. "What's your brother's name?" I asked him, hopping off and walking my bike.

"Darry," he said in a whisper, his eyes shut. I parked my bike and propped him up against a tree. I realized I forgot to ask the boy's name when I was almost to a man who looked like the manager.

"Excuse me," I said, looking up at this giant of a man, "but there was just a car accident down by Washington Street, and the kid who was driving is hurt. He said his brother works here, his name is Darry?"

The man grunted. "Must be Curtis' brother. He's over there." He jabbed a thumb over to where a bunch of the men were gathered and eating. I realized who it was when I realized the poor thing didn't have a lunch. I was so annoyed with myself that I didn't put it together sooner that Darry was a nickname.

"Darrel!" I ran toward him. He looked so confused. "Your brother's been in a car accident, I have him on my bike, if we get him in your car we can get him to the hospital faster!" I said this all very quickly, barely stopping to breathe. His eyes widened and he froze.

"Pony," he said quietly, his eyes darting around. I pointed under the tree, not even questioning what the word pony meant to him at a time like this. He ran toward his brother like a football player.

He cradled the boy in his arms. "Sodapop...what happened, buddy?" His fingers gently propped up his face as he looked deep into the boy's eyes.

"One of the River Kings was trying to fool around with Sandy and her friends...spooked 'em... I chased him and accidentally rear-ended him." The poor kid had tears cascading down his cheeks, and couldn't hardly talk through his hiccups. "Oh, Dar, I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry…" The boy sobbed, and Darrel ran his fingers through his hair, looking defeated.

I stood off to the side, not sure what to do or if I should leave. "Uh, Darrel, he should go to the hospital. Maybe if we got him in your car and headed over there, it would be a good idea…maybe call your parents, too? I'm sure your mom would like to know..."

Darrel sighed, rubbing his brother's back, as the sobbing grew even louder. He looked up at me and whispered, "Our parents are no longer with us. Soda and I shared the truck."

"Then borrow my bike!" I replied quickly, not even digesting what he had said until after. _No parents? Who takes care of them? They're still practically just kids!_

Darrel looked up at me hopefully. "Yes! I'll take him over there, you explain to your boss what happened, and meet us there." I glanced nervously at Soda, who I hoped was not too beat up from the crash.

He paused to think for a few seconds, and then nodded. "Yeah...yeah. I'll see you there." He took off running to his manager.

"He'll come soon," Soda whispered as we wobbled away. "He's real fast..." His head lolled onto my shoulder. Our ride to the hospital was full of me poking him in the side and slapping his arm to keep him awake, as I wondered what I had gotten myself into this time, as well as hoping that the weight of the half-conscious boy on my handlebars would topple me into traffic.


	2. Chapter 2

Hospitals are like airports.

Everywhere you go, whether it's the bathroom, the help desk, or down any hallway, every place is abounding with people. People young and old, rich and poor, black and white, sometimes even speaking different languages. There are people rejoicing, laughing, and whooping with excitement, then there are people grieving, crying, and quiet. There is no end to the stories waiting to be told.

"I'm sorry, I don't know any of his information. I don't even know his LAST NAME," I tried to calmly explain to the receptionist. So many thoughts were racing through my head, and I was distracted by the various beeping noises and voices. My heart was hurting for Sodapop. "He could still be in shock, he must be scared, can't I just go back there with him until his big brother gets here?"

"Naw, missy," the little old lady drawled, squinting at me through her enormous glasses. "Ya better follow the rules, now. When ya marry that boy, ya can take care of him allllll ya want." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "But I don't see no ring, so there won't be none of that here!"

My mouth dropped open in shock and my face felt like it was being submerged in boiling water. For one, this boy was a BABY. I was a nineteen year old WOMAN! He was the same age as my little brother! AND I would be pretty stinking terrified if I was all by myself in the hospital!

"Ma'am, I JUST MET HIM," I tried to explain to her, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darrel rushing in the emergency room doors. "That's his brother now!"

Darrel's eyes scanned the room frantically, his hands raising to his head in frustration. It looked like it had been a long day already; his pants were, instead of a normal blue jean hue, more of a tan. Sweat mixed with dirt stuck to his skin. He was out of breath, telling me that he ran here, stuck with his thoughts and his worries of a hurt little brother and a broken truck. My heart broke as I approached him, and I wondered what kind of life they lived.

My own family had always been well off. We had never been rich, but we always had enough to live, and then some. With my brother Charles, who was Soda's age, my sister Grace at 14, and Louise at 23, sometimes we had to wear hand-me-downs and not go to the movies anytime we wanted, but we weren't spoiled, and I saw what spoiling children did to their adult lives.

Darrel's eyes found me, and he ran over to me, weight being lifted from his back. As soon as he reached me, he passed me and kept walking. "Thank you. Thank you so much…"

"He's in room 102, they wouldn't allow me to go back and see him," I explained, trying to keep up with his long stride.

"I really appreciate this, you've helped us so much today. Thanks for not leaving him there-" Darrel paused and bit his lip. He avoided my eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't remember your name…"

"Caroline," I offered, my heart sinking a little bit. I had hoped that he would possibly remember my name; it's fun when handsome men remember your name, and you remember theirs. He gave me a small smile.

"Caroline. Thank you so much." We stood awkwardly outside of Soda's room. I wasn't sure whether I should just leave, he wasn't sure whether he should walk me out…our combined uncertainty was palpable and it made me want to bolt.

"I hope Soda gets better real fast. Would you tell him I said so?" He nodded and grinned at me. "I...dropped my tacos...probably a HUGE mess…" _Think, brain, THINK!_ "Better go clean it up…" I slowed, hoping that he would rescue me from my excuses.

His eyes, their color of a tranquil sea, smiled at me, along with the sweet, honest one that spread across his slightly burned face. "See ya tomorrow, maybe? If Soda's feeling okay, I'll be at work...and I love those tacos!"

"Darry?" Soda's weak voice called through the door.

Darrel smiled. "Be right there, buddy. I'll see ya tomorrow, Caroline."

My face burnt too, with surprise. "Oh...yeah! I'll be there! Bye" I waved and stumbled toward the exit, my blush spreading down my neck and seemingly to the tips of my toes. I didn't even glance behind me, and I knew that I would see a perplexed face. When I get embarrassed or taken off guard, I have this fight or flight predicament happen, and I just...take off.

I don't know what it was about him, in those early days. He was just so kind, and his words were few. The other construction workers would push, jeer, and make nasty jokes as they waited in line for their food. He stood silently and patiently. He always thanked me, and occasionally, gave me a little extra before he left, because he claimed they were just so delicious. We never got into very deep talk; I was always interested, but uncertain of where he stood on the matter, so I never initiated it. I thought, _if he REALLY wanted to talk to me, he'd ask me out on a date or something._

Well, that didn't happen. At least, not then.

If July were a person, it would be a strong, tanned, blond surfer, with snappy brown eyes and a huge grin. July would lounge gracefully in a lawn chair with a tall glass of sweet iced tea, in no hurry, floating through life. July would have a big, brassy voice and a belly laugh. June would be much softer and gentler than its brother, and would be sorely missed once its brother arrived.

Oh, July. The sweltering, humid temperatures and the scorching sun overhead made even my tacos sweat and lose their crunchiness to a soft, soggy exterior. I tried covering them, making them earlier, anything I could, but nothing helped.

Regardless of the new texture, people continued to buy them, day after day. They must have not noticed. The construction workers were probably too hot and tired. In addition to my lemonade, I started bringing ice water.

Darrel trudged up to my table after a straight week of mind-numbing weather. He wiped his brow tiredly. Beads of sweat cascaded down his face, his eyes squinted in the sunlight, and his body slumped with exhaustion and pain that I knew his joints must have been feeling, because all the other men complained about it. But not Darrel. Never him.

He always greeted me kindly, and his smile made me feel like I brightened his day. To my surprise, after he bought his lunch, he sat on the ground next to my lawn chair. "Darrel, please, take my chair," I pleaded, putting my hand on his sweaty arm. "You've been working hard all day."

"You're a lady. I'd feel awful if I took your chair," he said with finality, and with that, took a big bite of a taco. He sighed. "Mmmmm. Caroline, you shouldn't have a little table in a park with this cooking. You should have your own restaurant."

I turned my blushing face away, pretending to look for something in my purse. "Well, thank you! It is my dream, you know. That and to become a third grade teacher." I turned back toward the rock Darrel was sitting on, and was surprised to be even closer to him than before. He had leaned forward in interest.

"Really?"

I was taken a little off guard at his curiosity. "Yeah," I started slowly, smiling. "I love to cook, you know, and there's just something about that age, third grade-"

"CURTIS!" One of the other construction workers, Barry, hollered at Darrel. "Time to head back to work, man!"

Darrel's face fell, and I could feel my own mirroring it. "Sorry," he said softly, returning to his towering frame. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Hey...what do you do with the rest of your day?"

"Nothing," I replied, my heart starting to beat quickly. _Was Darrel asking me on a date?_ Visions of spending HOURS on my hair and looking for the perfect outfit were about to flood my thoughts, but I put a stop to them so I wouldn't miss what he actually said. I had heard of too many misunderstandings because people jump to conclusions, and I was determined not to let that happen.

"I'd love to hear about your dreams," he began, his voice still soft. He was a little shy, his eyes darting all over the place. "Wanna meet me at the Tasty Freeze tonight?"

I could hardly contain myself from dancing! Darrel was so handsome, sweet, and kind, and he was asking ME? I'd only ever been on two dates in my life! "Yes! I'd love to! How's five?"

"Great. See ya then." He flashed his sweet smile once more, waved, and ran to catch up with the other guys.

The difference between Darrel and I was that when he left a conversation, he glanced back. He still had an enormous grin on his face when he met my eyes again, and butterflies exploded in my stomach.

I feel sorry for the girls who don't have an older sister. They are lacking someone who can fulfill many roles at any given time: mother, coach, beauty consultant, friend, confidant. Sometimes I need someone to be straightforward with me, or someone to encourage me, and friends aren't always the best at that.

Louise is my best friend. Ever since we were little, we did everything together. With a four year age gap, normally it would have been hard. When I was twelve and she was sixteen, she could have dropped me like a box of rocks to go on dates or go to parties with her friends, but she never abandoned me. She always made time for me, listened to my petty problems, and helped wherever she could. Her impact on my life drove me to do the same with my sister Grace. I wouldn't trade my relationships with my sisters for anything in the whole world.

Louise adores being married, and I could never ask her to give that up. However, some days I wish that her man could entertain and cook for himself for a week so that I could share a room with her again.

What's wonderful though, is that she doesn't live too far away, just on the other side of town. Her cute little car pulled into our driveway while I was still a ways' away with my table and chair. I sighed in relief. Louise would know just what I should wear for tonight.

Because Darrel had never said what this was. I assumed, from his shyness, that it would be a date. But what do you wear on a date to the Tasty Freeze? _Should I do my hair? Should I wear make up? Should I wear a pretty dress?_

"Caroline. Breathe," Louise told me, leading me to sit down on our porch swing. Once I had seen her from afar, I ran to meet her, and everything just kind of spilled out: Darrel, the Tasty Freeze, appearance worries…

Her green eyes that matched my own flashed in the sunlight. I could tell she was excited for me, too. That was something about Louise: she celebrated with people, in the big things, in the small things, wherever they were at. "This is gonna be great. He sounds like a sweetie, especially because he asked you on a date just to learn more about you and your dreams! It will be wonderful." She checked her watch. "It's almost two. We've got a few hours. Let's see what we can do."

Another thing about Louise was that she never tried to make me look like a model in a magazine. She focused on who I was and helped me accent my own physical attributes. Grace soon joined us, taking charge of my hair. "Oh, Caroline, you're so lucky to have hair like you do, color of cinnamon. Mine looks like sand," she complained, brushing it smooth.

"Gracie, don't you dare say that, honey," Louise said over her shoulder as she combed through my closet. "I'm thinking casual clothes, but we'll do your hair all nice and your make up. The boy's only seen you at that taco stand, and I know he'll love to see you dolled up a little bit."

My three choices were a soft pink floral dress, a yellow and white polka dotted number, and a green dress the color of ferns. My sisters tried to stay quiet as I chose, knowing that I was terrible at making my own decisions. Finally, Grace couldn't take it anymore. "The green would look so good with your eyes, Caroline! And the pink one is so flirty and feminine, he'd love it!"

"I want him to see me, though," I responded, picking up the yellow and white dress. Louise smiled and nodded in agreement, her hands clasped together, and her eyes making her seem far away, like she was seeing something I could not see.

"Caroline, if this works out, I know you will be the sunshine of that boy's life."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there, everyone! I am blown away by the support and followers I've received! I'm sorry I haven't updated in about a million years...I was struggling with continuing my story from where it left off, and I realized I should delete the end of this third chapter. If you read it again, the end will be a little different and more open for me to work with. This isn't exactly an update, but as soon as I finish this, I will be writing my next chapter. Thanks for your reviews and your alerts!**

During the day, our friend July can be quite unforgiving, but the evenings are usually lovely. As the sun sinks lower toward the treetops, the air is warm with a fresh breeze: perfect weather for walks, ice cream, the drive-in, and enjoying a sit on the front porch with family.

This would be my very first time spending time with just a boy and me. I didn't show much interest in boys when I was in high school-all they ever cared about was sports and whispering vulgar things about girls. Just when I thought one would be different, speaking to me kindly in a class, I would see him with his friends and he would be joining in their jeering. I knew for some of them it was just an act, to appear cool to their friends, and that was the worst part for me-that one would care so much about being liked, being like everybody else, that it would destroy the very wonderful things about them that set them apart from the crowd.

Because this was my first date (Or, whatever it was, I still wasn't quite sure) I didn't know what to expect. I kept smoothing my yellow dress with my sweaty palms and fussing with my hair. During the day, I kept it in a tight braid that fell down my back, but Louise thought it would be nice for Darrel to see my hair down. My hair is thick, wavy, and has a mind of its own, thus why I kept it in a braid in the first place. I wasn't used to it being all around my face, and kept pushing it over one shoulder.

My mom always worried about being late and drilled into our heads at a young age that we MUST always be five minutes early, to everything. I had a tendency to be tardy whenever I traveled by myself-I was just very easily distracted-so I always tried to plan on leaving ten minutes early.

I absolutely loved this garden I always walked by on the way to the Tasty Freeze. A nice lady named Mrs. Harrisburg owned it, and it was so big and beautiful that she would sell her flowers for people to use in their weddings. Her daughter babysat some neighborhood kids and was a regular at my taco stand. She was tending to it when I passed, and we grinned at each other. "These cornflowers are coming in lovely, Caroline! I'll make sure to send some with Mary when she takes the little ones to your stand on Monday," she promised.

"Thank you so much, ma'am! I would love that!" I waved goodbye and kept on my merry way. As I was leaving, I noticed a group of boys turn onto the street in front of me. They were loud and a little rough, pushing each other, giving friendly punches and belly laughing. They didn't look enough alike to be brothers, but they sure acted like it.

"Darry said he wasn't comin' cos he had somewhere to be tonight," The shortest one explained, kicking a beer can down the street. His hands were shoved in his pockets. My heart jumped a little bit. _Darry? Isn't that what Sodapop called Darrel?_

"Maybe ol' Superman's afraid of his muscles deflating and went to the gym!" hooted a redhead with a skip in his step.

"Naw man, I think he's on a DATE!" I recognized that voice. Sodapop? It had to be him. There was no one else in the world with that golden hair.

"Nu-uh!" The first boy replied, shaking his head. "Where would he have met a girl, Soda? All he does his work! He doesn't go anywhere!"

"I'm tellin' ya, Pony, it HAS to be a date," Soda replied confidently, turning to the red-haired boy. "Before we stopped by to pick you up, Two-Bit, I saw him hunting in his room for something. And then I smelled COLOGNE!" He giggled to himself.

I felt my heart smile at that. I couldn't wait to see Darrel. I was debating on telling him I had been behind his little brother and his friends on my way over. I hoped they weren't on their way to the Tasty Freeze. "Maybe you're right, man," the fourth boy, a dark-haired, scowling thing, snickered as they stopped at the bus bench. I hurried past them, trying not to make eye contact, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Soda studying me as I passed. If he recognized me, he didn't say anything, but I thought I saw a smile playing on his lips.

As I approached the Tasty Freeze, I saw Darrel sitting on a picnic table outside. I had never seen him out of his work clothes, or looking so clean! He was freshly showered, in dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt. He looked so much more relaxed. He smiled at me as I walked up to him, his eyes taking in my dress. "Hey, Caroline. Wanna go get some ice cream?"

Darrel insisted on paying for my strawberry cone, and he ordered a chocolate fudge one. We sat out at the table quietly for few minutes, licking our rapidly melting ice cream. I didn't know how to bring up what I had heard on my way over, but I hoped to someday meet his friends. They had seemed like a jolly bunch. I was just about to ask about them when he suddenly spoke up. "So. What else do you like to cook?"

I smiled. "Oh, everything! I just love trying out new recipes, new techniques. But my favorite things to cook are breakfast foods! I could eat breakfast all day long!" My mind ran away with me for a minute, wondering if this date would go anywhere, making plans of what I could cook for Darrel if he asked me to be his girl someday, and then I remembered he was sitting right next to me. "What's your favorite food?"I asked, trying to shake my hopeful imaginings.

He thought for a moment as chocolate ice cream dribbled down his large, tan hand. The cone looked so small in his hand. He smiled softly, and a little bit sadly. "I love a good chicken pot pie. My mom used to make it for me on my birthday." He was quiet after that, looking thoughtful, and I pondered what my next move would be. I didn't want to talk about his family just yet-for most people, family is not a very complicated topic, but for him, it seemed to be something to save for another time. Especially on account of the fact that he didn't strike me as much of a talker.

He took a deep breath and said, "You told me that you want to be a teacher...AND open a restaurant? Tell me more about that." As I gushed over the adorable ways of children, making people feel at home, and making sure people who needed food had it, his sea colored eyes never left my own. They were quiet eyes, sad eyes, maybe with a little bit of hardness to them. I liked the way they crinkled in the corners when he laughed at some of the things that I had heard kids say, and he smiled and said, "I bet you'd be great at that," when I told him I just wanted people to feel loved and cared for at my restaurant. I rambled on and on, and he seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying.

After about a half an hour, we both were starting to get a little restless, and he suggested we walk around the block.

"Okay, Darrel," I began as we walked past Mrs. Harrisburg's garden. She glanced at Darrel, raised her eyebrows, and winked at me, all without him noticing. I disguised my laugh as a weird sneeze, which he promptly blessed me for. "I just told you all about my dreams. Now, I wanna know about yours."

He looked uncertain. "I'm not sure. I've never really had dreams." He thought for a moment, and then chuckled. "In high school, I wanted to be a football star."'

He was tall and broad-shouldered. His arm muscles bulged, and he had the solid, sturdy build of a football player. "Well, I bet you could be!" I encouraged, but then I thought about how kind and quiet he was to me, and how gently he had treated Sodapop when he was hurt. I wondered how aggressive he was able to be. The boys looked like greasers, so Darrel must have been one, too. But greasers and Socs get in fights all the time, and Darrel didn't seem like the type to fight.

Darrel was still thinking, as he noticed I was waiting for him to continue. "I think I'd like to be anything that helps people. Like a doctor, or a police officer." He paused and grimaced a little bit. "Or a social worker."

"It is a beautiful and selfless endeavor to spend your time serving your fellow man," I replied, quoting my father.

Darrel and I wandered for another hour, talking about what it might be like to do different jobs, favorite foods, and the Pritchard house project. As much as I tried to set it up, Darrel never really talked about himself. I was going to wait and see if there would be a second date to talk about family. I really wanted to tell him all about my sweet sisters who wanted to meet him so badly.

"Well, I need to be heading home," I said around seven. He was hard to read-I couldn't tell if he was sad to see me go or not.

"Alrighty."

We both stood there staring at each other, each waiting to see what would happen next. "I really enjoyed tonight. I liked getting to know you better," I offered.

"Yeah. Yeah," he stammered. "Yeah." I waited to see if he had more to say. He looked so frustrated with himself, and I wasn't sure what he was trying to do. "Me too." He paused, his eyes darting around. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"I think you will," I replied, trying not to chuckle. "Bye, Darrel."

"Bye, Caroline." We were both going in opposite directions. I turned to walk back toward my house. I remembered that he was the kind of person that glanced back at you when you were walking away, and when I turned, I saw that he was, but he shyly waved and quickly turned back around, heading toward the east side of town.


	4. Chapter 4

Here is a long overdue update! If you haven't already, run along and go check Chapter 3 and the ending-I tweaked it just a bit, and it will make more sense with where this chapter begins. Thanks for reading! Please review, so I can see how I'm doing!

"PLEASE, July," begged Tulsa, "Let that dang sun leave us alone for just one day!"

As requested, July had graciously allowed the sun to hide behind the clouds for a day, but the humidity was miserable, pressing down on every soul, weighing wearily on every living thing. Even the plants drooped. It was the kind of weather that transformed your whole day, the kind that would make you remember July 15, 1966. The rain would be coming soon, I was sure...but I decided to take a chance and take my taco stand out anyway.

It seems that on days like these, grey and gloomy, things often don't go as planned. I had run almost completely out of lemonade mix, and all we had left in the house was grape Kool-Aid mix. I ran out of meat for my tacos, and was left with a bunch of cheese tacos. Charles had a baseball game to go to, so he wasn't able to help me move all of my supplies down to the park. Though these things were discouraging, I wasn't going to let silly little problems like that stop me from having a good day!

The way I see it, we have two options for our interactions with other people in this world: we can either make someone's day better or make it worse. There is no in between. Even causing someone to crack a smile can make their day better, and a harsh word laid heavy on their heart can make it worse. Our faces are a doorway into our souls, and our words are the outpouring of our hearts. Oppressive and overcast days like this and any other time where we ourselves our struggling can make it harder to intentionally try to make someone's day better. But we must always try.

My sweet customers were few that day. Even the most avid of walkers decided to remain indoors, and the babysitters and children that usually paid me visits and brought me pretty flowers had done the same. There was the odd dog walker, but other than that, only the construction workers came to see me, and they looked absolutely spent already. There was no laughter and joking among them as they dragged their feet over to me. One by one they bought their lunches and leaned up against trees, fanning themselves. Darrel was last in line.

My heart had been heavy long before the humidity had kicked in. Ever since our date, Darrel had failed to directly acknowledge me. I had tried saying hi, I had tried striking up a conversation, but he responded shortly and kept his head down.

I thought our date had gone well, from the butterflies it gave me to think back on it. However, I was now second guessing myself. Even after going over every detail with Louise and Grace and them telling me "It was fine, Caroline! You worry too dang much," I was skeptical.

Darrel continued to visit my stand with all of the boisterous, sailor-mouthed construction workers. He got his usual tacos with cream and chiles and a cup of lemonade. But he never sat by me and chatted anymore, never said more than hi, never even looked too hard at me. He sat with the others in the corner of the park. The first day, they had teased him loudly, and pestered, "Why ain't you sittin' with your girlfriend? Y'all fight or somethin'?" After he muttered something to the effect of "knock it off" and refused to look at them, they relieved him, not before looking quizzically over at me.

It was now Friday, a week since our date, and he had kept up with this act. I wasn't the type to get all mopey and brokenhearted over a guy, but I couldn't understand why he was suddenly treating me this way. I thought he had liked my company, I know I liked his. He was a real good listener, and so handsome. His dark brown hair contrasted with his pale eyes, and because his face was usually solemn, his smile was a sight to see. And besides that, he was kind and understanding, which puzzled me as to why he was acting this way..He didn't even give me an explanation for why he didn't want to speak to me and what was the strangest thing was he wouldn't even look me in the eye.

I tried not to let it affect the way I treated him. Maybe I could bring him back around. "Hi Darrel!" I smiled at him, waiting for him to respond.

"Hey," he said, his lovely eyes down where I couldn't see them. "Two tacos and a lemonade, please."

As I prepared his food, I kept trying to start conversation. "It sure is hot, isn't it?" No response. "Y'all deserve a nice long break in a pool somewhere! Wouldn't that be nice?" Nothing. I swallowed and mustered up all the courage I could. "Well, Darrel, I really enjoyed our date last week. Maybe we could do it again sometime?" I added a shaky smile. His hesitation made me unsure whether I needed to be hopeful or concerned.

He quickly grabbed the tacos and his drink. His sea-colored eyes finally met mine, and they felt like nails. "I can't, Caroline. I'm real sorry." His tired body shuffled away, not looking back. I sighed. I had been blessed with persistence and a positive attitude, but I wasn't sure if there was any hope for this.

I think that men are just as much of busybodies as ladies are. As I watched Darrel head back toward the other workers, I noticed that they had been watching us silently, not even taking a bite. Once they realized I had noticed, one of them quickly said, "So, Bob, how about them crazies on the six o' clock last night?" They all leapt to chime in, pretending like they hadn't seen a thing.

"No, Gracie, you should always, always, always think before you speak. That's how you get into trouble," Louise retorted as we hopped off the bus. As we neared the entrance to the drive-in, she leaned close to me. "Is this okay?" Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Grace, who was waving and giggling at some baby greaser and his leather jacket clad friends. Louise was going to make a great mom someday-even when she was talking to someone else, she always had an eye on the baby. Maybe that came with being an older sister. I nodded in response to her. "Are you sure? 'Cause we can go home and make brownies, paint our nails or somethin'-"

"No, this is wonderful. I promise." Louise studied me for a moment, looking straight into my eyes, searching for any hint of uneasiness. "I need this time. We need this time. Sister dates are few and far between!" She decided to believe me and paid for both mine and Grace's way into the drive-in. She locked arms with both of us, Grace smiling at her, thinking that she did it to be affectionate. Not that it wasn't, but it was mostly for protection. Louise had been the mom of her group of friends, and they had fallen into some trouble with guys before, real young. The kind where the boy you thought was gonna marry you leaves you on your own with a precious little life growing inside your belly.

The blessed rain had come and relieved us from the oppressive moisture in the air, and gave way to a pleasantly cool breeze. After my strange encounter with Darrel at the taco stand, my sisters had been informed and insisted on taking me out to take my mind off of it. They knew me well; when something happens, I need distraction, not picking it apart piece by piece. Also, Grace had been dying to see Batman.

Before finding our seats in the chairs (Jorge had the car) we stopped by the concessions to get some snacks. Louise and I collected the popcorn, Coke, and candy to share. Grace tagged along and kept suspiciously glancing behind her, to the point where she was keeping the line from moving.

"Hey, sister, what's the hold-up?" A gruff voice growled from behind us.

"Grace! Keep moving, honey!" Louise called over her shoulder as she went to pay, warily eyeing whoever was distracting Grace. I gently pushed her forward as I turned to pull Grace along with me.

Grace wasn't the only one staring at this boy; he was a real looker, and I saw Soc and greaser girl alike making eyes at him. However, he seemed to only have eyes for me. They were narrowed as he tried to place me, and then his eyes lit up. I wondered how he could look so unlike his brother and still be related to him.

"You're Caroline!" Sodapop Curtis exclaimed, grinning at me in a way where I thought the heavens must have opened. "Thanks for savin' me that one time." He turned to the friends who were with him. "This was the girl Darry was talkin' about who drove me half 'cross town on her handlebars!"

His stocky friend leaning on the counter next to him had hair the color of a rooster, and hooted at his comment, sounding just like one. "You shoulda got a medal for that stunt, babe. Those ain't no normal Good Samaritan tricks."

"She's gotta be a saint or somethin', goin' on that date with Superman," quipped Soda's friend who had an interesting nose. I wondered if someone had socked him, as it affected the way he spoke. It sounded like he was talking with his fingers pinching it. Around his nose, it looked a little yellow, like bruises do when they're mostly healed.

The cashier had known Louise from high school, and while the boys paid, they chattered about one of their classmates who had recently married a senator. "I can't have been that much of a saint, he didn't seem to like our date." I was a little surprised that they knew about it, so I wondered if they might have more information to give me. Grace leaned in earnestly.

Soda looked sheepish. "Naw, it wasn't that he didn't like it. He-"

"Okay, girls, where are we sittin'?" Louise asked, offering Grace some popcorn. She didn't realize she had interrupted Soda. I was so surprised that he was going to tell me about it, that thoughts of the sister date were put to the side for a moment.

"Y'all find a spot, I'll meet you there." Louise trusted me and allowed it without question, but when I saw her drag Grace away, she began peppering her with questions. I turned back to Soda, trying not to seem too eager. There seemed to be hope! "What is it, then?" He looked a little hesitant, and his friends looked at me like they didn't know why I cared so much. "Listen, I don't know if this is strange or not, but I really like your brother and I want to get to know him better. And I thought he felt the same about me! I know it's weird that I'm some stranger saying all this, but I really do want to know."

Nosy sneered. "You really see somethin' in Darry?"

"Shut up, Steve," Sodapop waved his comment off. "Okay. I'll tell ya. Come sit with us, Two-Bit's been waitin' to see Batman since the newsreels." His rooster friend did look pretty excited and found a seat toward the front, but not in the front, because he wanted to put his feet up on the dusty old seat in front of him.

We had to talk quietly because there were people there to actually watch the movie and not just socialize. "I'm just gonna give it to you straight. I don't talk to nobody about this all that much, and you don't know us real well. But I've heard a little bit about you, and I think you could be real good for Darry." Sodapop's eyes beamed at me, and I felt just a little bit hopeful. At least I had the brother's approval, whatever direction this was going.

Soda took a deep breath and played with the end of his too long navy shirt. "My parents died five months ago on the seventeenth," he started. My heart sank. As I looked at him, I figured this was still a fresh wound. Two-Bit, who was on his other side, threw an arm around the back of his seat and patted Sodapop on the shoulder, without taking his eyes off the screen. My heart warmed just a bit at their friendship. "There's just Darry, me, and my kid brother, Ponyboy. Darry takes care of me and Pony-the courts wanted to send us to a boys' home." I couldn't believe that Darrel was twenty, and taking care of two teenagers. I hardly knew how to take care of myself!

"Anyway, they decided that we could stay together, but they said if anything happens-one of us gets in trouble with the police, gets hurt, whatever-that they'll split us up. There's a social worker who comes by sometimes, they check up on us, make us know they're watchin'. Darry's been bustin' his back trying to show them that he's responsible, and he's real protective of me and Ponyboy. He works six days a week, makes sure he always knows where we are, and doesn't let us get into any kind of trouble." He paused for a minute. "He's a lot harder on Ponyboy, though."

"How old is Ponyboy?" I asked. Saying his name out loud felt so strange. Darrel, Sodapop, and Ponyboy? What happened between Darrel and Sodapop?

"He'll be fourteen in September. He's gettin' to be at that age where he can mostly take care of himself, but he still don't know much about the world and what people can be like, and don't really use his head," Soda admitted. "Darry's afraid he'll get in with the wrong crowd, make some bad choices, ruin his chances at makin' somethin' of himself."

"He's just a baby," I agreed, thinking about Grace and understanding a little.

Two-Bit chuckled. "We're already greasers, how much worse can you get?" He crumpled up his popcorn bag and threw it against the breeze, which was getting steadily cooler.

Soda reached over to steal some of Steve's popcorn. Through his chewing, he continued. "Anyway, that night when y'all went out on your date, Ponyboy and our friend Johnny got into a bit of a scuffle with some Socs. Nothin' big, they weren't jumped or anything," He gritted his teeth and shook his head, "but they could've. Darry was so mad, madder than I've ever seen him. He was mad at Ponyboy, but he was more mad at himself." Soda turned to face me. He was one of those people that sometimes kept eye contact with you until you felt squirmy. "He really does like you, Caroline. He's told me about you. I haven't seen him like this over anybody. But he's in a fight with himself and his feelings. He feels like since that happened and he was on that date with you, that havin' a girl he might not be as responsible. He might be distracted from watchin' me and Pony, and we could get thrown in a boys' home because of him."

"Aw, he'll be just fine," Two-Bit piped up. "That's what he's got us for. Shoot, I'm with Ponyboy most of the time, I can watch out for the kid!"

"But are you sober?" Steve muttered from behind his hand. Those two had a short argument while Soda agreed, "It's true. Our friends look out for us an awful lot. And I can look after myself. Darry needs to have some fun sometimes."

"And he can! He can't just work and worry all the time. He's not even with y'all all the time to follow you around and make sure you're not getting in any trouble. The world won't end if he takes a break." The wheels in my head started turning as I imagined ways I could help the Curtis family, ways to cheer up Darrel and distract him from the worries no one should have when they're twenty years old. He was on his way to going gray so fast it would make his head spin. "I like Darrel a lot. I'd love to get to know him better."

"Good luck with that. Darry's harder than stone most of the time," Two-Bit explained, "doesn't like to open up to anyone much."

"We'll see," I said, a smile slowly spreading across my face. Sodapop had one that mirrored it. The gears were turning in his head, I could see, and his confidence and excitement gave me hope. Darrel Curtis made my heart flutter with lavender butterflies and that was not something I wanted to lose.


	5. Chapter 5

A lot of people seem to think that when boys turn into men, they get stuffy, businesslike, and forget all thought of childhood and play.

On July 23, 1966, I was almost positive that this transition would never happen to Sodapop Curtis and his crazy friend.

"I've always wanted to be a spy," Two-Bit told me with a smile so large it threatened to break his face. "Goin' on missions and stuff. What REALLY gets me is the nicknames. You gotta be real tuff to get a nickname. What should mine be?" Two-Bit tried to think of animals that shared some of his physical or personal traits as we waited on the bus stop bench. I suggested rooster, but he seemed to think that wasn't "tuff enough".

I liked Two-Bit a lot. I didn't know a lot of greasers, and what I had seen usually wasn't that great. Two-Bit appeared to be a little rough around the edges; for instance, I wondered if any of his friends were concerned with his apparent drinking problem. But he was funny, and kind, too. He seemed like the ideal loyal, fun-loving puppy dog that we all dreamed about having when we were kids.

"Okay, okay," I interrupted as he considered the timeless choice "Eagle One" as his nickname, "But what exactly is this plan supposed to be?" Earlier in the day, I had noticed Two-Bit hiding behind a tree in the park with sunglasses on, alternating between studying Darrel, pretending to take notes, and stroking an imaginary goatee. Once Darrel left, he had informed me in a low, serious voice that I needed to come with him and that I would be informed of the plan shortly. Then he ate the rest of my tacos.

"This plan isn't that crazy thing that Soda cooked up the other night, is it?" I asked nervously.

"Naw, we couldn't find a wig, and Soda figured it was kinda dangerous. And you know when Soda says something's dangerous enough not to try, it really is. Kid's gonna break his neck one of these days." Two-Bit hopped on the bus and slipped a coin out of his pocket. "Anyway, Soda decided to be all MATURE-" He used some pretty condescending air quotation marks. "And is trying to sit Darry down with Ponyboy and DISCUSS-" There go those air quotes again... "Like ADULTS. To calm Darry's fears right off the bat, we're gonna have a quiet poker night at the Curtis' house tonight, and y'all are gonna go on another date."

I leaned hard back against the seat and moaned. "Why didn't you tell me?! I don't even look cute today!" I dressed for comfort and speed today, so I was wearing overalls and two long braids, and I was carrying my sandals in my hand.

"Aw, shut up, ya look fine." The bus passed stop after stop, and we got off by the Dingo, which was the entrance to the not so nice side of town. I had only ever been to this part while riding in the car, and I walked a little closer to Two-Bit and put my sandals on to avoid stepping on the broken glass and cigarette butts that littered the sidewalk. A friend to everyone, Two-Bit greeted about every other person we passed, and we crossed the street at the corner with the sketchy gas station.

"Where are we going on our date?" I asked as we turned onto a street with lots of little fixer-upper houses.

"Uh. I dunno. We figured maybe you could come up with something? But not too far away, Darry's having trouble finding a cheap car." Two-Bit twisted his mouth to the side and thought, and slowly stopped in front of a small white house, who looked to be one of the nicest on the street.

"Here's their house. But I dunno if Soda's done DISCUSSING." He pinned himself against the side of the house, listening through the open window, while I leaned up against the ledge on the porch. _"Bzzzzz. The eagle has landed,"_ he said in a growly voice.

I rolled my eyes and started bouncing on the balls of my feet. My stomach was turning with anticipation and anxiety and doubt that Two-Bit and Soda actually knew how to handle this situation, and I was all sweaty because I didn't anticipate being outside in these stupid overalls so much, especially because girls just didn't go out in overalls as everyday wear in Tulsa, and I just wanted to know what the heck was going on. Darrel hadn't so much as looked at me in two weeks, and I didn't want him to think I was crazy for getting involved in these antics. For another thing, Two-Bit was a horrible spy, because after tripping over the front step, he yelped and the voices that crept out the window ceased.

The door slowly creaked open, and to my relief, it was only Sodapop. "Hey," he said hesitantly. He glanced at Two-Bit, who was still on the ground after his fall. "The plan's messed up. Darry's working overtime tonight. He's probably gonna be cranky, so he's not gonna listen."

"Well, we just to have to think of things that will lessen his crankiness!" Two-Bit reasoned, getting up and pushing past him into the house. Soda followed him, and I decided I probably shouldn't just hang out on the porch. "What makes Darrel real happy?"

"When we pick up the house," a slow, drawling voice answered from the kitchen.

"Yeah! And you know what else makes him happy? A nice, big chocolate cake!"

"Two-Bit, that's what makes you happy." A tall, auburn noodle of a boy came into sight, who I guessed had to be Ponyboy. He smiled shyly at me. "Hi, I'm Ponyboy."

"Caroline. Nice to meet you." I looked around the cluttered little house. Despite the shoes everywhere, the pile of dishes in the sink, and a slightly stinky boy smell, it was a lovely home. The walls of the living room were yellow, littered with pictures and flower wreaths. A large basket next to the armchair overflowed with yarn of many colors, but it didn't look like it had been touched in a while. The muted green curtains on the window were thrust wide open, letting the sun stream into the happy little living room. I felt at home immediately.

"How about we clean the house?" I suggested. "Do you guys have a place for all of this clutter? Do you have a vacuum? Do you know how to use it?"

"'Course we do," Sodapop scoffed, throwing a pair of shoes down the hall into an open door. "We'll do the cleanin', and you can make the cake. 'Cos you're the one who sells food for a living."

After an hour of vacuuming and dusting the whole house, and throwing away some old shoes that were too stinky and ratty to stay on Ponyboy's feet anymore, Sodapop and Two-Bit were "doing the dishes" (splashing water on each other and occasionally on the dirty dishes) and Ponyboy was searching the pantry for something to eat for dinner.

"When's he gonna be home?" I asked, searching for an oven mitt, and finally finding one in the silverware drawer (?).

Soda glanced up at the kitchen clock, a beautiful old thing shaped like a sailboat. "Usually when he does overtime, it's around six, so anytime now."

"How 'bout we make pancakes for supper?" Ponyboy suggested, loudly shutting the door to the pantry.

"We don't have milk, buddy."

"Well I'll go get some then, cos I want pancakes." The front door quickly opened and shut, and we all peeked hopefully into the living room, but it was just Steve, who, without saying anything to anyone, sat himself down in the armchair and turned on the TV way too loud. Soda pulled out a ragged wallet and handed Ponyboy a dollar for some milk and hollered at Steve to turn down the TV, then slammed the dry pots and pans clumsily into the cupboard next to the sink.

I grew up in a house of mostly girls, so I wasn't used to rough housing, yelling voices, or general loud things, and I was kind of sensitive to them. I didn't want to go into the living room where all the boys were shouting at the TV and each other, but it wasn't my house so what else was I supposed to do?

6:30 came, and along with it came a blond boy with his mouth pressed into a hard line, the loudest of them all. Briefly glancing at me when he came in was the only time he acknowledged me, and after that he and Steve began to play poker. I sighed, trying not to let my brain wander.

I'm a worrier, and not just one that occasionally worries about normal things like failing a test or forgetting my homework, but my thoughts spiral so uncomfortably about the most irrational things at the worst times. Right now, since I knew Darrel was about a half hour late, I thought about all the things that could have happened. Maybe he fell off the roof? Maybe he got hit by a car? Maybe he saw me through the window and decided not to come inside?

When these kinds of things happened, I couldn't really get past them without a distraction, or the knowledge that everything was actually okay, so I was trying to patiently wait until Darrel walked in the door.

"Y'all are makin' a mess and we tried hard to clean this place up for Darry, so go in the kitchen," Soda said to Steve and the loud, growly blond boy. They grumbled at him but obeyed, setting up shop in the other room. It was perfect timing too, because the second Steve yelled "Dallas, you cheater!" the door opened.

"Darry!" Soda hugged his brother. Before he even noticed me, I could tell Darrel's tired eyes were narrowed suspicously.

"Why's it so clean in here?" He glanced around the room and saw me on the couch, and I froze.

"Guess what, Dar? We're gonna have a nice, quiet poker night and make pancakes, and you and Caroline get to go on a date!" Soda smiled at Darrel and patted his arm, trying to get him to stop staring at me.

"Caroline even made you chocolate cake!" Ponyboy handed him a small plate of cake and a fork, grinning up at him, but his grin looked like his mouth was just trying to stretch as far as it could across his teeth, it didn't really touch his eyes.

"Aww, isn't that sweet!" Two-Bit exclaimed, nudging Steve, who had been coached on his line earlier.

"Wow, I wish I had a girl who would make ME chocolate cake," he said sarcastically, not even glancing up from his cards.

The growly blond bear just watched the situation silently out of the corner of his eye, and I realized I should probably do something, so I waved. "Hey," I said weakly.

Soda nodded slowly. "Right, so you guys go have fun somewhere-"

"Soda, what about the 'discussion?'" Ponyboy hissed, and Soda trailed off.

"Oh yeah." He whispered into Two-Bit's ear, while Darrel just watched incredulously. "Man, I didn't really think about what I was gonna say to him."

"Here's the thing, Darry," Two-Bit started, clapping his hands. "You worry too much. Pony and Soda are big boys now, they can take care of themselves, and besides, one of us is always gonna be with them. You need to stop feeling like everything's your responsibility because it's not, you're freaking twenty years old, you're barely an adult. This pretty girl actually wants to hang out with you, is that right, Caroline?"

I nodded, my tongue seemingly glued to the roof of my mouth. "So before you lose this chance, you need to eat that cake and then take this girl on a date, because if you don't, you're gonna be a lonely old man when Pony travels the world as a writer and Soda is a famous rodeo clown." Two-Bit folded his arms, expecting a response. Darrel said nothing and took a bite of the cake. The time he took to chew felt like an eternity.

"Fine."

It was a long drive to the Tastee Freez, and it was even longer since Darrel wasn't saying anything.

I don't know what I was expecting. He had hardened himself the last few weeks to me and my attempts to talk to him, so just because I showed up unexpectedly at his house and we were forced on another date by his kid brothers and their friends didn't mean that everything was going to be all nice again. I wished I had thought through what to say, what to do, and how to go from here.

He paid for a chocolate fudge cone for himself and a vanilla one for me, and we sat down at a picnic table, still not exchanging more than a couple words.

"That Two-Bit's a scream, isn't he?" Darrel finally said.

"You ain't a-woofin'," I replied, letting out a sigh of relief. "They care about you an awful lot, you know that, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Is your house always so lively?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. Most of them don't have great homes to go home to, if they have one at all."

"So you're kind of like their safe place."

Humming thoughtfully, he licked a stray drop of ice cream off the bottom of the cone. "I guess so. And they're kind of ours, too. I think we'd go crazy if it was just the three of us, probably."

I wasn't good at small talk, and liked to dive into the deeper topics, but I still wasn't sure whether to dip my toes in this one. "I-" I swallowed, trying to throw out my nerves. "I bet it was good to have them around a few months ago."

He nodded-he knew what I meant, and didn't try to discourage me. He just sucked in a deep breath and laid his hand on his cheek, as he had finished his ice cream cone quickly. As he replied, I realized he hadn't even had dinner yet. "It was. They're like our brothers, you dig? The closest thing we've got to family."

I smiled silently, and we both just sat for a while. "And sometimes, they help give us the push we need in the right direction." I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly, and he continued. "I really do like you, Carrie Anne. A...a lot. And I like this thing we have." He stood up and motioned me to walk with him. "But I don't know what it's gonna look like."

"That's okay, I understand," I said, trying not to respond too excitedly. I didn't want to scare him off.

He went on, "I just have so much to think about with Ponyboy and Soda, that they would always come first, okay? They're still so young and I need to make sure they're safe and well."

"Of course."

"And I move kinda slow, just so you know. I'm not the type that jumps all in real fast."

"You tiptoe? Or you wade?"

He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I kinda tiptoe. I take one small step at a time. Sometimes I stay still for a long while, and it looks like I'm not gonna move."

"So that's when I get Two-Bit and Soda, right?" I joked.

His bright blue eyes met mine. "I think if you try, you might be able to give me a little push too."

My heart warmed. "Okay. I can do that. And I want you to be comfortable, and I'm in no hurry. Please. You set the pace of whatever this is. If we need to just be friends right now, I'm happy just being your friend. I like you, Darrel. You're funny and fun and interesting."

"I like you too." It took all the strength I had not to cheer and squeal. I could see Mrs. Harrison peeping at us from her garden, and she met my eyes. She had heard. "And maybe we'll just go on a few dates for a while? Spend some time together, gettin' to know each other?"

"Sounds good to me," I replied, and we walked on in comfortable silence.


End file.
